IT was like a game of Clue with clueless players and high-profile profilers proliferating on talk shows faster than Kelly Ripa.

“It’s the Hispanic man in the cream van on the Beltway.” “It’s Middle Eastern terrorists in a white truck at the all-you-can-eat buffet at Ponderosa.” “It’s Martha Stewart at Michaels with a high-powered glue gun.”

Unable to get caught, John Allen Muhammad and sicko sidekick John Lee Malvo had to call the cops themselves. When that didn’t work, they called a priest. When that didn’t work, they called in a bank account number. When that didn’t work, they had a “friend” call. Still nothing.

Finally, a trucker (in a white truck) found them, and despite the cops’ belief that the crack-shot crackpots would go out in a blaze of glory, they told the tipster to block the exit ramp himself until they showed up. Right.